He Forgets How Small She Is
by azarathangel
Summary: "Felicity without heels. Now there's a sight rarely seen." Ficlet focused around Olicity with some trio humor sprinkled in because I love them so. [Oneshot]


I have been bitten (hard) by the Olicity bug. This is my first dip into this wonderful world, so please be kind! This began as a random scene that wouldn't leave my brain and developed into whatever you want to categorize this ficlet as. It's a little bit of drabble and a little bit of fluff. Some out-of-character moments, but just roll with it.

* * *

><p>Felicity without heels.<p>

Now there's a sight rarely seen.

Oliver watched as the bespectacled blonde flopped down near the server towers to fiddle with a wire. The gentle smirk on his face at her ungraceful landing was quickly replaced by a small frown as his eyes landed on the bandage wrapped tightly around her left ankle. Felicity leaned over to poke at the machine and he watched as her arm jerked back to her body when she leaned too far, the motion straining her ankle as she balanced her weight. Oliver didn't need to see her face to know the expression that flitted across her brow: a quick pursing of the lips and gritting of the teeth as she rolled her eyes, an uncomfortable and annoyed Felicity.

"Need some help?" he asked quietly, moving to crouch next to her. Her shoulders twitched at his sudden presence.

"No," she said, drawing out the 'o' as she turned over her right shoulder to lock eyes with him. "Thank you very much, but you wouldn't know a network management port from a serial management port and I've already fixed the connection anyway."

Oliver held his hands up in mock surrender, a smile tugging at his lips as Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose. She noticed his expression and offered a soft smile of her own in response.

"Now help me up," she said, holding both arms out towards him. Oliver laughed and stood, easily lifting her to her feet as he rose to his full height. His hands slid to her arms and he leaned back, studying her.

"What? Do I have something in my hair? On my face? Are my glasses smudged?" she rattled off, starting to move her hands to check. Oliver smiled and shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh as her eyes narrowed at him.

"Then what, Mr. Queen, is suddenly so fascinating?"

"You're so short." The words escaped his lips before he even had a chance to think about what he wanted to say. Felicity's jaw dropped.

"I am not short," she retorted, poking a finger into his chest. "The average height of an American female is 163.2 centimeters. That's five feet and four and a half inches, mister. I'm five 'five. That's above average. You're just a giant. A very hard—" she poked him, "muscley—" she poked him again, "giant."

"Maybe," Oliver hummed in response, one hand coming up to grab Felicity's attacking finger. "But that doesn't change the fact, Ms. Smoak, that you are tiny."

"Didn't we just establish the fact that I am above average?"

"_You_ established that fact, Felicity." She crossed her arms over her chest, forcing Oliver's hands to fall away to his sides. He grinned down at her as she glared up at him.

"Do you know the definition of the word fact, Oliver?"

"Please don't tell me this is another 'questioning Oliver's intelligence' argument." Diggle's voice echoed through the foundry and the door clanged shut behind him. Felicity turned, stumbling slightly over her ankle. Oliver's hand immediately went up to steady her, but she stuck an arm out to catch herself against Oliver's chest instead as if he were a wall.

"Muscle giant," she muttered to him, pushing against his chest to see if he would budge. She looked over at Diggle.

"Oliver called me short!" Felicity called across the room. Digg stopped to set a bag of takeout on one of their metal tables, shaking his head as he laughed.

"He called you short?" Digg repeated, straightening up to his full height as he reached the pair. "I'd say you're downright tiny."

"I hate both of you," she deadpanned.

"Did you hear something, Digg?" Oliver said, looking over Felicity's head at Diggle. Diggle shook his head with quiet laughter as he smirked back at Oliver.

"Nope. How about you?"

"What is wrong with you two today," Felicity grumbled to herself as she pushed past the men, trying her best to petulantly stomp away but managing only a pitiable limp.

"Must be a breeze coming through," Diggle said thoughtfully as he swayed out of Felicity's way. She threw her hands up in the air with a huff and an exclamation of "good lord!", and Diggle and Oliver burst out laughing.

The two trailed behind the angry blonde, not daring to speak until she was seated at her computer. Oliver watched as she drew her knees to her chest, bare feet perched on the edge of the computer chair as she hugged her legs close against the chill of the room.

"How's your ankle?" Digg asked, returning to the bag of takeout and emptying its contents. Felicity shrugged one shoulder.

"Just sore," she responded, watching Oliver warily as he pulled a stool over to her. He reached out to her left foot and laid a warm hand on it, his grip soft as he tugged gently.

"Felicity…" he said in a low tone. She rolled her eyes.

"You could use your words, you know."

"Please?" Oliver said, raising his eyebrows at her. Felicity acquiesced, letting him pull her leg across his lap so he could study the injured ankle. Diggle handed her a set of chopsticks and box of noodles which she happily accepted.

"Man, if I knew it only took a sprained ankle for you two to wait on me hand and foot, I would have jumped off my fire escape a long time ago. Not that I liked jumping off the fire escape, because ouch, but this—" she held up her food, "and this—" she pointed at her foot in Oliver's lap, "is just great. Not that you have to, you know. Wait on me hand and foot. Because I can take care of myself. But, still—" her babbling was interrupted with a yelp as Oliver moved her ankle around.

"Sorry," he offered, looking at her through his eyelashes.

"Ouch," she said coolly, lips pursed as she leveled him with a restrained glare. Oliver didn't respond, his gaze traveling back down her leg and lingering at the scrapes on her knees. One hand came up to rest at the side of her leg, thumb ghosting over the healing cuts.

"I'm okay, Oliver," Felicity said gently, watching hard lines form on his face as he studied her bruises.

"But your apartment," he started. She lowered a hand to his, stilling his fingers as she gripped him tightly.

"It's just stuff. I can replace it. Plus all my electronics were here and at the office because I was so tired I forgot them so I guess really it's a good thing you made me work a 24-hour shift Arrowing and Assistanting otherwise I _really _would have been pissed to lose my computer…" she trailed off when she noticed Diggle and Oliver staring at her with identical half-smiles.

"You are something else," Diggle chuckled.

"Well _someone_ has to have an iota of optimism around here between you two glower giants," Felicity shrugged, removing her hand from Oliver's to take another bite of lo mein. Oliver shook his head and leaned back, resting his hand around Felicity's ankle.

"Dodge a bullet one day, jump from a burning building the next," Oliver said. Felicity and Diggle could tell it was meant to be casual, but both noticed the shadow that fell across his brow.

"When did you become such a badass, Smoak?" Diggle teased as he slid a box of takeout across the metal table to Oliver. She merely stuck her tongue out at the pair, not missing how the gesture lifted the dark look from Oliver's eyes. She and Digg were getting better at that.

Their dinner was peppered with shoptalk and gentle teasing, a light-hearted tone coating the conversation. When the boxes were empty and the chopsticks discarded, Diggle swept it all back into the bag before lifting his jacket off the back of the second desk chair.

"Lyla duties?" Felicity asked with a smile as he checked his phone. Diggle returned the grin.

"What else?" he responded. "But you two have to take care of cleanup." He shoved the bag of trash towards Oliver's feet, and Oliver gave him a nod of farewell. Digg turned to leave, but paused for a moment.

"If you need anything, Felicity…" he trailed off. Her response was a smile and slight tilting of her head as her phone danced back and forth in her hand. And with a smirk, Diggle exited the foundry.

"Of all things…" Oliver muttered. Without his friends' attempts at distractions buzzing about his head, his gaze once again locked on the purple and blue marks on Felicity's bare knees. Where Felicity might have once rolled her eyes at his constant need to shoulder every ounce of burden there was to be had, this time she merely smiled at him, her eyes soft.

"Oliver…" she murmured, hand going to rest on his knee. "You know none of this was your fault."

"That's the thing, though," he responded, still not meeting her gaze. "This wasn't even meant for you."

"Well, I never said I had good neighbors. It was only a matter of time before someone tried to burn one at the stake," Felicity said lightly. When Oliver's only response was a narrowing of the eyes, she finally rolled her own.

"Look at me, Oliver," she coaxed. He did. "It's a weird world. We can't prepare for everything. Car accidents, sickness, or… arson." She swallowed hard and looked away, hoping he didn't notice how she clenched her jaw at the memory of flames licking at her bedroom door when her room filled with smoke.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with sincerity. She felt his fingers beneath her chin, moving her gaze back to lock with his.

"I will be," Felicity answered honestly. Fire had always scared her, if she was being honest. She had nightmares about it consuming her house when she was younger, and those had come back tenfold last night. But Oliver didn't need to know that. Not now.

"Good," Oliver responded, not prying further. She was grateful for that.

"Now," Felicity said, mentally shaking herself as she held her arms up much like earlier when she had been on the floor in front of her server towers. "I demand assistance hobbling to the _very_ comfortable-looking cot in the corner."

Oliver raised an eyebrow as she looked at him expectantly. He couldn't help the small grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he gingerly placed her ankle back on the ground and stood up. When he began leading her towards the stairs and not back to the foundry's cot, she protested.

"I thought I was the one with the minor concussion, not you. This is most decidedly _not_ the direction of the bed where I will be spending the night."

"You really think I'm going to let you out of my sight after last night? What happened to you being a genius, Ms. Smoak?" The sudden return of Oliver's playful attitude did nothing to help Felicity as she tried to form a coherent thought.

"Well I can't very well go home with you, my boss, to your house. Mansion. Where your mom and Thea and cameras and people are and I'm your assistant for crying out loud," Felicity shot back. Oliver chuckled.

"For someone so intent on spending the night alone in a factory basement, you're not putting up much of a fight," he said as he looked down at her. They had reached the stairs and Felicity now sat on the steps while Oliver handed her the grey sneakers she had borrowed from Thea.

"Well you're kind of hard to resist, you know," Felicity began as she loosely tied the shoe around her bandaged ankle. "Physically, I mean. Literal resistance. Like electrical, but not. Physics." Oliver watched as she became more and more flustered, not bothering to step in and stop the rambling he found so endearing.

"Those eight inches really make a difference. Height I mean. Because you're tall." Felicity's face was now, to Oliver's mind, a delightful shade of pink. "Inches of height! Oh god, why doesn't anyone stop me. Somebody stop me," she groaned, standing and hobbling away. Oliver's shoulders shook with quiet laughter as she continued to mutter under her breath while she snatched her jacket off the back of her chair.

"Shut up," she said as she reached him again.

"As long as you never do," he said quietly, his arm snaking around her shoulders and drawing her close to his side. Oliver dropped a kiss into her hair, smiling into the blonde locks when Felicity found herself momentarily speechless.

"Let's go home," Oliver whispered.

* * *

><p>Drabble fluff! Still haven't caught up on the third season. That's the weekend plan. Please review! Like I said, I have been bitten hard by this bug. I have a few other ficlet ideas floating around that I'd like to put on paper in the near future.<p>

Cheers! -Ash


End file.
